Summer
by Mechanism
Summary: As if I didn't have enough disdain for myself, here's roughly 6k words of teenage ghost sex. Wow I'm upset with myself right now.


Spencer's junior year rolled to an end with all the hurry of molasses, though when he finally stepped out of school and into summer, it was a relief. Although Billy had always been content to follow Spencer around at school, Spencer hadn't shared the feeling; Billy had been chastised for distracting him in class, knocking things over, or harassing staff members and students with pranks. Despite Billy's interference, Spencer stepped into summer with his best friend at his side, thin ethereal body slipping across the air like he belonged that way. It suited him better than having to walk around; if egos were helium, Spencer supposed.

Billy was excited at the prospect of spending another summer with Spencer; junior year had been especially hard on both of them, and Spencer's usual creative spark had been rather hushed under the roar of homework and tests and increasing pressure from his parents; liberal arts school, it seemed, was his only real choice. Billy was all about schooling for Spencer, since it seemed so important to him, but Billy himself had dropped out of his first year in college. Although such complex thoughts rarely plagued him, Billy was occasionally wont to ponder Spencer's path in life, and that he was actually pretty proud of the kid every time he did well, and even when he didn't.

Spencer had a grown a lot since he was only fourteen, gangly and weird, all elbows and adams apple. Now, at sixteen-going-on-seventeen, Spencer had cleared the nettlesome hedges of puberty, leapt from its precipice, and emerged a knockout. Billy was pretty pleased; they were distant relatives, after all, so it would be pretty disappointing if Spencer didn't live up to the Cobra standard. Spencer was still shorter than Billy, being a few years younger, but he had matured into an entirely different person that Billy would have predicted. He was still adventurous and ambitious, things about him Billy had always felt they had in common, but he also had these worrying, intelligent brown eyes that had a lot more focus and a low burning energy behind them than Billy had ever possessed.

Spencer became something of a small town celebrity, with a crooked smile that tumbled girls into the backs of trucks and couches; first a few, then more. Billy felt an old nostalgia for his days of not knowing what to do with his life when watching Spencer live them. Spencer was still a teen, sort of awkward and strange in the elbows and ankles, but he had filled out and become something that could surely bring the entertainment industry to its knees, if only he had the willpower. Billy didn't know; that sort of thing was impossible to know until the person was in the heat of it. There wasn't any false, pre-emptive way to test his mettle.

Spencer got home, slammed his backpack onto the floor, and ran out to the pool. Billy was there waiting for him, swimsuit already donned, wide grin on his bluish face; he looked enough like a drowning victim to be startling when next to the pool.

"Yo, Billy!" Spencer greeted, pulling his shirt over his head and discarding it to the side of the pool. He yanked his jeans down; he was already wearing swim trunks underneath, more than ready for the beginnings of summer.

"Spence, my man! Happy last day of school." Billy grabbed Spencer in a headlock, messing up his finely tousled hair. He looked like something from a reality show; Billy sort of wished that Spencer had any musical talent, he could make it in Billy's footsteps with eyes like those and perfect, boyish features. No business like show business, as they say, but Spencer preferred being behind the camera to being in front of it by far.

"Augh, dude, fuck off! Go get the pool toys, we'll invite some people over." Spencer laughed, pushing billy's arms off of him and jumping into the crisp, cool water of the pool with a splash, sending water to pass through Billy like he wasn't there at all. The ghost smiled broadly at him, goofy smile touching his eyes, and flitted off in a swirl of bluish chaos to fetch pool toys.

Spencer's family would be out until the following Monday, so the boy and his ghost had all weekend to fool around and get into trouble. Spencer enjoyed the prospect, but also just felt like going for a fun swim and then sleeping through Saturday completely. He let himself fall into the water, submerged, the heavy blue of it on his eyelids and fingertips. It was cool and sweet like summer, noisy birds in the air and the sound of his own heartbeat.

When he surfaced, it was to a pile of pool toys being dropped on his face. He spluttered and pushed through the wad of pool noodles and water wings, only to feel a pair of cold, slick hands on his hips, gripping him under water. Spencer grabbed onto an inflated plastic whale for floatation and twisted around to look into the water; behind him, Billy's face blinked at him from under the flashing, silvery surface of the water. Spencer gave him a horrified look.

Billy's grin widened into a menacing Cheshire smile, hooking his thumbs into the elastic of Spencer's pool shorts.

"Hey, dude, no! Don't you dare!" Spencer squawked, bubbles surfacing as Billy smiled darkly underwater. Spencer kicked him as hard as he could, only for Billy to panic, phase through him, and smack his face against the pool wall. "Hahaha! Oh my God, are you serious?" Spencer snorted into his hand as Billy surfaced, belly up, faking his second death. "You better be okay!" Spencer shouted, paddling over to where Billy floated like a dead goldfish, bluish white stomach bright against even the pool water. He really looked like a corpse.

Spencer smiled and reached out, dancing his fingers down Billy's stomach. The pale surface lurched, and Billy squirmed up out of the water, nervous giggles tumbling from his tongue. For a person who could phase through things, he was pretty ticklish.

"Weren't you gonna invite somebody over?" Billy asked after a while. Spencer shrugged.

"I was, but..." He paused. "I dunno, I guess on second thought I'm just too tired. I just wanna hang out here with you." Spencer yawned and mounted the blow up whale, laying on his stomach. Billy snorted.

"At least get a raft, you nerd." He pushed one over to Spencer, who rolled onto it with a small splash. "If you fall off and drown, I'm gonna laugh." Spencer just grunted in response.

After a while of being ignored, Billy got fed up and paddled back to Spencer. He didn't especially need to, but it was the principle of the thing that compelled the gesture. He didn't especially need to do _anything_ since he was dead, but he was at least a good sport about it.

Billy didn't think things through, and sometimes that caused problems for Spencer. He came tumbling into the boy's life, and didn't pay much attention to boundaries, which made it really hard for Spencer to sort through their relationship when Billy didn't do his own share of sorting. Billy was always that type to go with the flow of the wind, to let it happen if it happened, but the circumstances this time were different. This wasn't some fan who followed him backstage, nervous and blushing, or some girl met in a bar to be taken into an alley, feverish and drunken. This was his best friend; not only a best friend, but a male friend, and a distant relative, who happened to be alive, while Billy himself was dead as a doornail.

Spencer sighed contentedly, enjoying the pampering. Billy rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over Spencer's stomach, hanging from the raft. He didn't like such calm, tense moments; it made him think about things too much. It was easier when they were filming, and everything was going wrong, but it was chaotic and fun and there was no time to stop and think about boundaries or anything of the sort.

After a while, Billy got fed up with being ignored and blew a raspberry on Spencer's stomach, sending him tumbling off of the raft and into the water. Spencer groused noisily while Billy laughed, though he did eventually pull him out of the pool in all his pruned, mildly sunburnt glory.

Spencer trundled up stairs as the sun went down just after a quick shower and some fresh clothes, which consisted of a t-shirt and boxers. Billy followed him up stairs to his room, where he kindly put on a movie.

"Whoa cool, I love this flick! ...Spence?" Spencer sat down in one of the two chairs pulled up in front of the tv, and his head lolled about on the back of it. Mouth slightly open, breathing softly, eyes closed. His nose and cheeks were slightly reddened from the sun, his dark eyelashes fanned out against his high cheekbones. Billy rolled his eyes; Spencer looked like an angel when he was asleep, no one would ever guess what a hellion he could be behind a camera.

Billy settled in, opting to scoot in next to Spencer rather than sit by himself; the chairs were big and roomy, so it was a comfortable fit. The house was quiet, dusk sneaking over it and the pool toys left outside. Spencer would be hungry when he woke in the morning, so Billy resolved to make him something before he woke up. He wasn't much of a cook, but Spencer would appreciate the thought.

Spencer woke with a sore back and a dry mouth. He snorted and blinked hard, clearing sleep from his eyes, only to see the ceiling of his room. He had fallen asleep in his chair again. He turned his head to the side to look at the wall clock; 1 pm. Late, but perfectly fine for a Saturday morning. Spencer yawned and stretched, pulling the muscles in his back and arms into life. He looked around to find his room pretty trashed; Billy had clearly been up all night, throwing popcorn everywhere, going through another three movies, the cases of which were thrown unceremoniously across the room. He was used to having people to pick up after him, and that duty was now passed to Spencer, who resented it with appropriate vitriol.

This morning, however, he was too groggy to get up and launch a hunt for the bluish cretin, so he just picked up the cases and threw them into a pile together, scooting popcorn to the side with his foot and putting the bowl back on the little foldout table on the floor.

"Spence, get down here!" He heard Billy yell from downstairs. He groaned, almost knocked over a half empty glass of Fanta, and then set about climbing down the stairs.

Light was filtering through the sliding doors to the patio by the pool, illuminating the otherwise unlit living room. Spencer flipped ont he lights as he walked through, and froze, seeing a bit of a mess splayed out across the couch. He wasn't quite ready for whatever was waiting for him in the kitchen.

"C'mon Spence! Bro, this isn't funny, get down here!" Billy continued to yell noisily from the kitchen. Spencer flinched; it was way to early for this. Billy had good intentions more or less all the time, but he was pretty thick-headed, and tended to cause more problems than he solved.

"I'm already here, you don't have to yell." Spencer grumbled, walking into the kitchen. He at least had the decency to be appropriately horrified when the kitchen was an absurd mess, flour spilled over the countertops, somethings smelling of smoke, thick, eggshell colored glop spilling over the side of the sink. Six spatulas were out, spread about the kitchen, two of them melted beyond repair. In the middle of the chaos, Billy looked all to pleased with himself, grin swathed over his face. Spencer gave him a flat, unamused stare.

"Hey, don't look like that! I made you pancakes!" Billy sang, presenting Spencer with a plate of something approximating pancakes. Spencer gave him a hard stare for a moment, but then softened; he had time to clean up, anyway. He took the plate from him. It was a mess, half burnt, half liquid, and seeming to be made of some opaque white paste and not the liquid dough of the typical pancake, but Spencer appreciated it.

Honestly, it was great to wake up to this. It was rare that Spencer could appreciate it, given how insufferable Billy was prone to being, but he didn't miss waking up to an empty house. He was always different from his family, quiet and weirdly artsy and too passionate, and they frequently left him behind to go on trips, even when he was very young. Thus, waking up to someone expecting him, trying to do something nice for him even though he was bad at it, or making a mess in his room, was wonderful.

Spencer sat down at the island on the kitchen, wiping away a fine dust of flour and nibbling on the pancakes, which, though admittedly quite bad, were a nice gesture. Billy enjoyed the praise and sat next to him, talking a mile a minute about the movies he watched after Spencer fell asleep.

After an hour or so of cleanup, Spencer went upstairs to brush his teeth and get dressed. Billy had intended to wait downstairs, but he ended up getting too bored int he two or there minuets while Spencer was gone, and followed him.

"Dude, aren't you ready yet?" Billy busted into his room, and lacked the decency to look at least a little bit scandalized when Spencer looked at him, mildly shocked, pants half up with no shirt on. He looked put out after a minute of being alarmed.

"Knocking, it's this thing that you should do." Spencer sighed, pulling his pants on and zipping them up. Billy snorted.

"Nah, I mean I've seen you naked before." Billy chortled.

"Something you've never really elaborated on." Spencer gave him a sharp look.

"Look, I was invisible, you were ripe for the pranking, we live together, you know. Shenanigans!"

"Thanks, that explained everything, and wasn't creepy at all." Spencer rolled his eyes before pulling on a t-shirt, ghostbusters logo printed on the front of it.

Billy watched him brush his hair and find a belt for a few minutes before floating up behind him and throwing an arm around his shoulder. Spencer looked at him, like he expected something, but Billy wasn't sure what.

"Hey, do you wanna see a movie?" He asked, looking down at Spencer. Full lips, sharp jawline, pretty eyes. He looked best in the morning, still a bit of a mess. His shoulders were broader than they had been, and it took more of a reach for Billy to get his arm around them. Spencer was warm, downy pre-stubble on the edge of his jaw, a little split in his lip from going from the pool to drying so quickly, his hair still a little chlorine stiffened. He smelled like pool water, smoke, and lavender soap. It wasn't like the smells Billy was used too, not in the back of cars after tours, or long nights in cheap hotels, not like menthol and vomit. In stead, it was something young and new, and yet something he knew so well it felt like returning home.

"Billy?" Spencer asked hesitantly when he felt the ghosts nose card through his hair, the ghost descending on him, the arm over his shoulder developing into a one-armed hug.

"Hmm?" Billy hummed. He wasn't good at thinking things through. Impulsive, perhaps, but honest. Spencer didn't want to acknowledge the moment, but iw as getting hard not to.

"Listen, we have all of summer ahead of us..." Spencer said; he wasn't sure what it meant, summer left for what? To walk around on eggshells? He wasn't sure. Moments like these weren't infrequent, but leaving Billy alone for so much fo the school year seemed to have taken its toll. Even the late self-involved pop icon got bored with himself eventually, and became lonely. "Ugh." Spencer bit his lip, unsure of what to do; brush it off, go to the movie, maybe wait another month only to have this happen again, some other place, some other time. Patience waned with winters.

It would happen sometimes in public, in a shopping mall, at school. Tense, strange, and tiresome. Billy testing a line over and over, only to leave the responsibility of reinstating boundaries to Spencer. But spencer got tired, too; at fifteen, he had been flattered and nervous and excited at the prospect, the first time they almost kissed, blood rushing to his cheeks, heart beating against his ribcage under the eyes of a man five or six years older than himself. They lived in different worlds, so he always felt overwhelmed. Now, with two or three years of that nipping at his heels and pulling his shoelaces, he felt less like playing the game he played out of fear or nervous infatuation, and more like just pushing Billy over the line to see what he would do.

It would go badly. They'd get involved, and it would spiral into failure, firstly because Billy was dead and Spencer wasn't, and secondly because it could never be a normal relationship. He couldn't introduce his parents to Billy, and eventually, Spencer would die.

Spencer leaned up and kissed the corner of Billy's mouth. He felt the ghost inhale, his lips cold and firm. He felt an old spark jolt from his lips down his throat, something that brought a smile to his face. It was like succeeding in a prank, or getting something he wanted, and then it was relief. He wasn't dead yet.

"Whoa, hey there, little dude..." Today wasn't a special day. There was no sweet romantic thing to change Spencer's mind, none of the charms Billy thought he was supposed to use, and he wasn't even sure what had spurned this. But the lips on his face were human, warm, soft, with a little split in the soft, seashell pink skin. Pink like raw pork, pink like prom dresses.

"I'm almost seventeen, I'm not little." Spencer smiled into Billy's mouth, turning to face him.

Billy had kissed a lot of people. It was sort of a thing he was good at and enjoyed, so he did it often. This kiss, however, wasn't like those. It was his best friend whose mouth he tasted, wondering where the line is between friendship and romance. Was friendship not a breed of romance? Without Spencer to regulate the boundaries between them, they seemed to disappear. The house was quiet' no parents talking, no little sister. Billy felt like he was taking advantage of a lovestruck teen while his parents were away, climbing a balcony, leaving in the morning again. Except this time he knew there wasn't any leaving to be had.

Billy pressed one of his hands against the back of Spencer's head, feeling his downy brown hair. He felt a pair of hands press firmly against hs chest, deliciously alive, an old sensation burrowing into his stomach, accompanied by a new one. Guilt, an emotion he rarely felt or had time for, slid down his throat and into his stomach like a dark stone, but he ignored it. This was too good to not have his full attention; it had been a while since the last time he'd been kissed, years in fact, and the sensation awakened old things. His other hands snaked around to cup Spencer's lower back, as natural as breathing, before Spencer broke the kiss with a soft, wet sound and breathed softly into Billy's neck.

"We gonna see a movie or what?" Spencer asked. Billy laughed a little, and felt guilty again. Spencer was younger than he was, and alive. Billy may have held himself in high esteem, but even he could see the problems he could cause.

"So I guess you're gonna ignore that we just kissed, huh broski?"

"Mmm, a movie sounds good right now." Spencer frowned.

"Guess I can't stop you."

"I'm in the mood for horror."

A bad movie came and went; the walk to the theater is a little awkward, and Billy spent most of it irritated. A little dejected and with a bruise on his ego, he floated quietly behind Spencer, who was determined to to text his friends into the ground if it meant not acknowledging Billy.

The movie was, unsurprisingly, quite bad. Poorly written, clunky dialogue, and no character development to be seen; but those weren't the things that Billy or Spencer were looking for. Billy rather liked to just sit back and watch the explosions and the assorted viscera splattering the camera, and Spencer was leaning forward, elbows on his knees, eyes trained on the film in some quiet study. Billy would glance over at him every few minutes; maybe they'd share a smile, laugh at the acting. But sometimes he'd look over and Spencer would be absorbed completely, intelligent eyes detailing every instance of splatter effects and the way fire moved. It was all design and practicality, the special effects, and something that Spencer loved.

After the movie, Spencer was in a much better mood; he seemed excited, and rushed home to pull out his camera. Billy sped ahead of him most fo the time, talking a mile a minute about explosions and gore and ways to steady a camera. When Spencer got home he ran to his room and pulled his camera out, turning it on Billy immediately. The ghost, of course, didn't show up on the film, but he made a good show of throwing things around.

"Well, if we were looking to cut a budget, we could do a Blair Witch Project sort of thing with my old camera. It has its own look if its done well." Spencer said, putting the lense cap back on.

"Yeah, but we've both seen Cloverfield." Billy chortled.

Spender scrunched his nose like he'd tasted something sour, eyes flashing. "Ugh, you're right. Is it overplayed? I mean Blair Witch is a cult classic, but it was also made by a bunch of kids in the woods on no budget, and isn't very impressive on its own."

"Well, it's not overplayed, it's just hard to do well, I think." Billy replied, opening a cardboard box full of props and came out with a werewolf mask on.

"Right. I mean, we could also go in a Jacob's Ladder type direction, that's surreal as hell. Spirituality and self loathing and inner demons and whatnot." Spencer made a sweeping gesture with his arm before falling backwards onto his bed, staring at the ceiling, chewing his lower lip. Billy shrugged and pulled the mask off, throwing it back int he box.

"I was thinking of pursuing a more surrealistic stylistic choice, but it runs the risk of becoming too Burtonized." Spencer frowned.

"What, you mean with like swirlies and skeletons and stuff?" Billy asked. He only knew what he picked up from Spencer; he wasn't much of a director himself.

"Something like that, maybe experiment with...inner demons stuff, like Jacob's Ladder, with an art nouveau angle to it? You could probably express a lot of anxiety through that style, even though it was meant for flow and peacefulness. You've seen Giger's work."

"No, I havent."

"Okay, you've seen Aliens, right?"

"Oh, yeah!" Billy lit up.

"Well it's like that." Spencer smiled.

Billy crawled up next to Spencer on the bed, laying down next to him and fiddling with the camera's lense cap while Spencer continued to ramble.

"Hey, Spence?" Billy asked, stopping Spencer just short of launching on a tirade about why Rawhead Rex was so good in theory, but ended up falling short; pre-christianity mythology was an uncommon theme in the time it was made, but despite the controversial priest scene, the film was wholly unremarkable in every other aspect. Spencer turned to look at Billy, who laid flat on the bed, thin for his age. Spencer blinked solidly, eyes energetic.

"Yeah, man?" Spencer answered, eyebrows drawing together in vague concern.

"I know you don't wanna talk about it..." After a moment of squinting confusedly at Billy, a look of dawning comprehension swept over Spencer's face with frightening vitriol.

"Augh!" Spencer covered his face with his hands, and Billy laughed at him a little.

"Hey, you kissed me, I don't get why you're the one who gets to be all defensive." Billy teased, flashing a grin at Spencer, who looked appropriately galled. A little pink, too, though it could have been his sunburn.

"Look, Billy, you know we're close friends, but that was just... really impulsive of me, I don't know. Sorry, man." Spencer grunted, rolling over onto his stomach and pushing his face into the comforter.

"Its alright, everyone is attracted to me."

"Shut up, you aren't helping."

Billy stared at Spencer for a tense moment or two, and got antsy. He knew Spencer was being sensitive, and he was all about rolling with the punches and letting this happen or not happen, but he was rather rooting for it to happen, and he wasn't used to not getting his way. He'd never had to cajole anyone into liking him or kissing his face, it had always just happened, especially after he hit the silver screen. Things were difficult to navigate with Spencer because there was a legitimate relationship at stake, something to lose if he messed up and pushed too hard or not enough. He didn't like dancing around things, but that was how it was with Spencer; knowing when to give and when to take.

"Listen, if you're up for it..." Billy leaned over Spencer, phasing through the bed to the other side of him where there ws more room. He leaned his face right over Spencer's eyes, which were covered by his arm. Spencer just grunted flatly.

"Hey, c'mon, I have needs too you know." Billy pushed Spencer's arms off fo his eyes, and looked down at the boy. Guilt surfaced again, but unlike last time it had an apprehension attached to it which eliminated it after a couple of minutes. Billy didn't really feel as guilty now as he did before; maybe some part of him had always thought it was just him, and that even though Spencer did battle with some kind of romantic attachment to him, that it would never come to fruition. Maybe he felt like a creep for kissing Spencer that morning with a backdrop of an empty house; it made him feel like the experience was cheap, like every teenager whose balcony he'd climbed.

Spencer gave him a long stare, eyes half lidded, looking tired again.

"Fine, just get it the fuck over with already." Spencer sounded resigned; it wasn't like his old self, all spluttery and nervous. Billy grinned broadly, and leaned down, pushing his lips against Spencer's.

It was pretty gross; Spencer tasted like popcorn butter and cream soda, and he hadn't really been totally prepared so his lips were still pressed into a thin line. Billy opened his eyes to find Spencer's open as well, looking vaguely shocked despite having known full and well what was coming.

"Ugh, dude, you're a cold fish right now, stop." Billy tried to roll on top of him, arms phasing into the bed to loops around Spencer's back. Spencer leaned up this time, mouth pushing against Billy's; this time it was better, albeit still flavored like a movie theater. billy shivered, a cold chill running up his spine, When Spencer carded his fingers through slick, waxy blue hair, gelled back and held that way even in death. Billy's weight was real against Spencer's chest, all of him falling down. Billy felt Spencer's chest expand with each breath, ribs pushing against Billy's chest, stomach moving nervously as he got comfortable, touching and then not touching as he pressed into the bed. Spencer wasn't a cold fish.

He pressed with wetness of his tongue to Spencer's lips, and mouths opened, with seeming relief. It was like finally breathing, drinking breath from Spencer's lips, sweetening his lungs. He could feel Spencer's breath rush out through his nose when they shifted, Billy's right leg coming to rest between Spencer's thighs. Spencer made a long, winded, appreciative sound low in his throat, rumbling up and bubbling out where Billy swallowed it greedily. It was more gravelly and gruff than Billy would have expected, like a deep growl. He was losing himself a little, too; it had been such a long time, and Spencer was so attractive, and he was rubbing so deliciously against Billy's front. Billy couldn't believe how much time Spencer had spent stopping this from happening when it was so, so good.

"Fuck." They parted for a second and Spencer uttered the syllable on a long, drawling breath; somehow it sounded much more interesting than it had the hundred other times Billy had heard him say it. Spencer was pressed scandalously to the bed, and Billy felt his ego swell; even this boy, with all of his reservations, eventually fell.

Billy opened his eyes to a great sight; sunburns and a thick blush seemed to fit Spencer pretty well. He moved his hand down Spencer's stomach, massaging down until he cupped a dull hardness in the front of Spencer's pants, only to be cut short. Spencer's hand snapped down to catch his wrist, stopping him immediately, even as a pretty gasp slipped from between his swollen pink lips.

"Your parents are out." The line was old but this time it was new.

"What if they come home, having forgotten something, and..." Spencer rambled.

"Spencer, you've brought girls here before, why does it matter now whether or not they catch you?" Alarmingly, the prospect of being caught seemed to spark intrigue in Spencer's eyes. He wetted his mouth and swallowed, staring at Billy, obviously teetering on some unseen fence.

"At least having a girl in here makes sense." Spencer said.

"So what, they barge in, see what exactly? Even on the one in a million chance that happens...you know what? Here." Billy rolled off of Spencer and grabbed the edge of the comforter. He then rolled back, chest pressed to Spencer's, and pulled the comforter over both of them. "They can't tell I'm not some teenage girl if they can't see me"

"They can't see you anyway." Spencer snorted, looking winded.

"C'mon, Spence, we have literally been dancing around this for two years. Might as well dive in all at once, huh?"

"Aren't you supposed to take me on a date first?"

"Spence we've been dating for all of those two years; ask you exes." Spencer actually laughed.

"Alright, fine, come here." Spencer rolled over, tangling them furthering in the comforter, pressing Billy underneath of him. The ghost looked a little starstruck, staring down at Spencer, who was smiling that knockout smile, pink on his cheeks, eyes glassy. Billy wondered if this was what every teenage girl he brought home saw, and sucked his lower lip into his mouth. He had caught Spencer in the act once, almost a year ago. It had been an accident; Spencer had given him a warning that he was bringing someone home-usually Billy's cue to stay out for a while-but in the wake of finding a new film to enjoy, Billy had forgotten. He had discreetly poked his head up through the floor to check and see if Spencer was around-which he was-and had been greeted with something he hadn't ever really been able to unsee. Spencer curled around Malory, her red hair fanned out against tangled bedhseets, feet hooked around his back, sweat and a crooked, sweet smile on his face. Billy had rushed away immediately, wondering how it was so easy for him to be flustered by a stupid teenager.

Spencer pulled his shirt up, nestling his face into his stomach. Billy was a little startled, but sighed contentedly when Spencer began to place wet, open mouthed kissed down his stomach, into the dip of his naval, on the trail of downy blue hair that snaked under the hem of his pants. He felt the warm slickness of a tongue, followed by the fumble of fingers on a button, the sound of a zipper falling undone ringing in his ears and calling his blood to attention. He could feel Spencer shifting, then pulling his pants all the way down. His hard sex pressed against the thin cotton of his boxers, swollen and ready.

He felt a pair of a hand son his thighs, massaging up and down, pushing inch by inch closer to his straining erection. Warm breath fanned out against him, tickling the cells there into life. His thighs buzzed with warm anticipation before the flat of Spencer's tongue pressed against his dick through his boxers. Billy opened his mouth to make a choking gasp; this wasn't the direction he had foreseen things going in, but certainly it was a good one. It had been so, so long, and Spencer was so, so good, and _God_ how much he loved that boy.

Spencer rubbed the flat of his tongue along the clothed underside of Billy's erection.

"God damn, I'd almost think you've done this before..." Billy dared to look down, and caught Spencer's gaze, a bit addled but finely focused. He saw the smile barely quirk his lips, the tongue pressed against him.

"I don't have to tell you everything." Billy would be hurt if the words weren't muffled by his dick.

Spencer closed his mouth around the clothed erection, eyes fluttering shut, and sucked in earnest, still not taking it into his mouth but toying a little. Billy could almost cry; his thighs quaked, his toes curling under the comforter; he had to stop himself from accidentally phasing through the bed.

He felt Spencer's fingers pull open the front of his boxers, and his hard sex was freed immediately, wet and slick. He heard the laugh and felt the broken breath against his dick, propping himself up on a pillow to look down, and God damn, that boy was good. He watched, breath held, as Spencer sank down on six inches, lips pulled tight, nose pressed to flush to Billy's groin. He felt the slick inside of Spencer's mouth and made a noise in the back of his throat, hips bucking, before Spencer's hands came to hold them down. Billy almost sobbed, looking down again to find Spencer looking right back up at him, pulling his head up to suction his lips around the sensitive head, only to sink back down, maintaining eye contact through a veil of sweat wet hair. Billy groaned with hard satisfaction as Spencer began to take him in and out with steady rhythm, tortuously slow though it may have been. He felt bolt after bolt of near-orgasm shake his spine and make his legs turn to stone, over and over again, hot lead coiling above his dick as Spencer took him in, again, again, again.

Spencer gave a long, hard suck, tongue pressed flat against the cock in his mouth, as Billy was trying to push up into his throat. Spencer felt the tenseness of his thighs, heard the high pitched keen, and let the pressure off of Billy's hips, letting him buck into the hot, silken heat of Spencer's mouth.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!" Billy chanted, thrusting hard, before a scream almost tore out of his throat, strangled with bitten lips, his hips pushing up hard, every muscle in his body flexing, his thighs quivering as he tried to push himself as far into Spencer's mouth as he could get, as deep into that hot, wet throat as he could manage. His whole abdomen clenched, forcing him to arch inward, twitching, eyes squinted shut, teeth gritted hard, as liquid blue shot down Spencer open throat.

Spencer held it in his mouth, waiting for Billy to ride out the last few waves of orgasm. When his back finally relaxed again, legs going numb, Billy sighed contentedly, opening his eyes and blinking over and over to get his mind right before looking down. Spencer was fumbling his way out from under the covers, opening up a way for cold air to rush in to brush against the tingly, hot surface of Billy's inner thighs.

Spencer grabbed an empty plastic cup from his bedstand, where it had once held some soda from a fast food place down the road, and gagged thick blue ectoplasm into it. He coughed a little, jaw sore, and spat again to get everything out of his mouth.

"Oh, wow..." Billy looked appropriately starstruck, which was all well and good, except that Spencer was left painfully erect. He trundled over to Billy, bending over him, kneeling and taking his hand, pressing it to the front of his pants.

"Oh God, sorry man." Billy apologized, voice a grating slur. He rolled on his side, pulling Spencer's pants down around his thighs.

"Dude you're all...really transparent, and kind of sinking into the bed." Spencer observed. Billy put a hand around his erection and pumped lazily.

"Yeah, sorry, not thinkin' straight." He muttered, leaning up to wrap his lips around the dick leveled at his face. He felt the soft, velvety flesh, hot and hard in his mouth, and had to remember a lot of old tricks all at once, angling his neck a peculiar way and opening his throat to take it down.

"Oh man, oh man, I can see my dick through your stupid head, oh man." Billy would have rolled his eyes if Spencer could see them. Quickly the noises of mute complaints turned into long, drawn out growls, but Spencer wasn't long. He put both his hands on the back of Billy's head, pushing it down as he pushed in, spilling down his throat. Billy closed his eyes, nose pressed into dark curls, and swallowed thickly.

"Ah, thanks..." Spencer muttered when Billy pulled back with a wet pop. He grinned.

"No problem." He pulled Spencer's pants back onto him, tucking him back in and buttoning them up. "You kinda blew my mind; real surprise, that was."

"Was it?"

"Yeah, I wasn't expecting you to know what you were doing."

"You don't give me enough credit." Spencer sighed, laying down.

"Fuck off." Billy chided, insincere and smiling quietly, the edges of his voice seeming to curl up.

"You're a dick sometimes, you know it?" Spencer replied.

"Nah."

Spencer snorted and rolled his eyes, and the next day things were back to normal. Not much changed; much to Billy's surprise, Spencer seemed to relax immediately, like something big had been taken off of his mind. Billy stole a kiss under the umbrella on the patio of a fast food place, and it tasted like salt and strawberry milkshake. He didn't feel even a little bit guilty.


End file.
